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“Yeah, you do that. I’ll see you in a few.”
I ended the call, eager to get home. Not because I didn’t want Keiris alone in my house. Oddly enough I was more eager to see if she felt as comfortable in my space as I’d felt in hers. But more than anything I felt that intense pull to want to be near her. Maybe it was time for me to accept that whether I wanted to or not, I had already let Keiris in and now that my space had been infiltrated by her, I wasn’t open to letting her go.
ChapterSeven
Keiris.
Balor’s house was nice and very masculine. Not only did it smell like him—hints of cedarwood, cinnamon and citrus—the vibe was similar to the man he was. The furniture in his living room was large and bulky—a thick cushioned sofa which was a deep burgundy that almost appeared to be brown. The tables that surrounded it were mahogany.
There really wasn’t anything personalized about his space aside from one photo of him and another man who I assumed was his brother. They stood shoulder to shoulder, both wearing scowls and staring directly at the camera.
They looked angry but both men were handsome and shared a lot of the same features. However, where Balor’s hair and beard were low cut, his brother’s hair sprouted in coils and his beard extended from his face a few inches. Their eyes were identical though, dark orbs that squinted slightly, hiding their midnight hue. The photo sat on a table near the sofa alone, reminding me of how he’d said his brother was his only family.
As soon as I entered and deposited the groceries in the kitchen I decided to go exploring. My first stop was upstairs where I located three bedrooms. Only two were furnished, the third looked more like a stash spot for random things. Balor’s bedroom revealed another layer of what I believed his personality to be.
The space was wide open, with a massive bed lining one wall—a black, distressed wood bed frame and black bedding which was slightly ruffled like he’d rolled out of bed and tossed the covers back in place. I smiled at what the visual would be like then allowed my eyes to roam a little more since staring at his bed had very unhealthy thoughts surfacing.
I traveled to his closet and inhaled deeply because it smelled the most like him. I glided my fingers over the clothes hanging on both sides, playfully rolling my eyes at all the dark colors. My next stop was his bathroom which was clean and smelled like something citrusy which I assumed was from the plug-in hovering from the wall. Then I leaned into the glass enclosure of his shower and lifted his body wash. Spar by JoSi. I was familiar with the brand since Lani, the owner of Rejuvenate, had made it for her husband JV. I’d never had a man I’d wanted to buy it for or one who’d used it. I knew their brand well and loved the scent he’d selected.
As I left his room, I smiled with thoughts of whether or not I could visualize myself here. I could and the admission made me smile wider. I was midway down the stairs when Balor walked in the door. Although his movements were controlled and smooth, his energy loomed large.
“You’re still here so I take it you didn’t find anything you disapproved of.”
“Maybe I did and you caught me just before I made my escape?”
He grinned and lowered his helmet to a stand near the door, meeting me at the stairs. I stopped two before the bottom and he stood with his hand on the wall, which expanded his chest, feet shoulder width apart, and eyes intensely focused on me.
“If that was the plan you should have moved faster. I’m cutting off your escape route.” He winked and stepped around me, bypassing any contact but I understood why when he tossed over his shoulder, “I’m going to take a quick shower to wash the day off me.”
“I’ll get dinner started…” I paused. “Or leave.”
He laughed and disappeared at the top of the steps.
By the time he was showered and changed, I was done preparing our meal and waiting for everything to finish baking. He walked right up to the oven and peeked inside, inhaling deeply when the aroma escaped.
“Pizza smells good. Homemade?”
I moved to the refrigerator, removed a bottle of wine and a beer. “Partially. I usually make the flatbread but you sounded like you had a day so I didn’t know if you could survive the wait. Beer or wine?” I held up both.
“You sharing this time?”
“Yes and no. I brought two bottles just in case. I’m a one bottle kinda girl.”
He reached for the beer. “This is more my speed. Not really a wine drinker.”
“No coffee, no wine. How will we ever survive this friendship?”
His body stilled and angry eyes landed on me but they softened moments later. “I did have a long day but I would have let you do your thing.”
“Cool. Next time you get homemade flatbread. I made one barbecue chicken and one margarita. I don’t care which one you choose. I like them both or we can do half and half.”
“I’m cool with whatever.”
My eyes swiped the kitchen. “Wine opener?”
“Last drawer in the corner,” he muttered and when I had it, also returning with a glass that wasn’t meant for wine, I handed it over since it wasn’t electric. While he worked to uncork my sweet red blend, I watched him navigate with ease.
“You’re very skillful with that for someone who doesn’t drink wine.”
